


safe place

by crocodile_teeth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, References to Depression, is he dealing well? of course not, it's basically oikawa dealing with missing iwaizumi, let me just say this is a vent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocodile_teeth/pseuds/crocodile_teeth
Summary: There was something about how the water creeped up against the shoreline at this time of day. The orange light of the setting sun reflected off the water in a way that made him feel nostalgic. The ocean had always made Oikawa feel that way. Not just a body of water, no. No lake, river, or pond gave him the same feeling of tugging familiarity that the ocean did.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	safe place

**Author's Note:**

> hi, i've literally never written a fic before and did NOT reread this after writing it in one shot. it's a vent fic but i think sharing is cathartic?

There was something about how the water creeped up against the shoreline at this time of day. The orange light of the setting sun reflected off the water in a way that made him feel nostalgic. The ocean had always made Oikawa feel that way. Not just a body of water, no. No lake, river, or pond gave him the same feeling of tugging familiarity that the ocean did. He found himself caught in how flexible it was, watching it form around the wooden legs holding up the boardwalk like it wasn’t even there. Would he ever admit his fixation with sitting and watching something as cliche as the OCEAN? Maybe after his lengthy and overdone funeral. Until then, it was something he kept to himself. It felt safer that way. Keeping one of the things that brought him the most comfort in a safe little bubble, never to be popped or squeezed by another human being as long as he kept it close to him. 

Oikawa found himself here frequently since making the move to Argentina three years ago. It was the first place he came to that wasn’t as foreign to him as the rest of the country. The first nights spent here, Tooru only really remembers the echo of the sobs he muffled only by a pillow in his new room. Weeks had passed but the gnawing, all consuming feeling of regret weighed heavy on his chest. Oikawa’s fingers grazed over the exposed skin near his collarbone at the memory of it. When he panics, the ghost of the feeling always threatens to make a lively return. Nobody told him adulthood was just a bunch of guesswork. No amount of test prep or life lessons given by his mother every time she had not just 1 but 2 glasses of wine at dinner could have prepared him for just how little control he would have. Cruel joke, really. Adulthood being framed like the time in your life where you have the most autonomy, the direct ruling over your own life, only for you to find out that you’re really just along for the ride. Who’s ride was it? Fuck if he knew. He’s barely just buckled in. 

“Oi! Tooru! Heeeeeeellooooo??” The voice snapped Tooru out of the fixed gaze he had on the shoreline in front of him. Turning his head, he quickly recognized one of his teammates. Right. This probably looked a bit odd. Oikawa took the few seconds it took his teammate to make his way to the spot he sat in, slowed only by the fact that the idiot kept his flip flops on while trekking through sand, to plaster his smile on his face delicately.  
“You know, it’s a good thing you’re an amazing libero because I really don’t think you have the brains to pursue anything else.” Oikawa quipped, making sure the other saw his eyes flick down to the flip flops on his feet. The smile on his face was familiar. It was one he’d been using since he was a child. It raised his cheeks just the right amount. Made his eyes squeeze just enough to make not just the smile but his whole expression convincing. If you touched his face when he smiled like this, it would register as warm, undeniably alive flesh against anyone's fingertips but to Oikawa, he only felt the cold plastic draped over nearly every inch of him. 

Santiago kicked a good chunk of sand in Oikawa’s direction at the comment, pulling a face that told the setter he had taken the joke well. 

“A couple of us are going out to get some drinks. You want to come or do you have plans?” The man widened his arms and gestured vaguely at the ocean in front of them. “Hot date or something?” 

“Oh, hotter than you could believe.” Tooru calculated the expressions he let Santiago see. Slight purse of the lips, mouth still drawn up in the corners. Eyebrows pulled tighter and a quick glance between the man and the water. Acting as if he hadn’t made his decision the second he heard his friend approaching. Acting like he was planning on doing anything but sit here in a stew of his own self pity. “Go on without me. I’ve got about two days of sleep to catch up on and last time I went out with you freaks, I’m pretty sure I was plastered for about 24 hours.” 

The laugh the joke pulled from his teammate was genuine. Tooru could see it in the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled. For a split second, he looked like he wanted to argue but it quickly faded when Oikawa flashed his teeth in the next smile he gave him. 

“Yeah. Yeah. Alright, man. See you at practice tomorrow?” Santiago took a few steps backwards. “Oh! And if you end up bagging her, use protection!” The joke was awful and much too forced but Oikawa laughed anyway, shooting him a wink and blew him an exaggerated kiss before the other was too far away. 

The sun was much lower in the sky now. The orange and pink lights had faded into something darker. That tug again. The nagging familiarity ate at him once more when Tooru’s eyes fixed back on the water. What was it about the ocean? He didn’t particularly like getting in it. The saltiness was unbearable. It was normally bone chilling. And it made his hair dry so incredibly stupid. The smile he wore, bled off his face and with it, the suffocating feeling of plastic slowly faded. It was just him and the sea.

Pulling his knees up to his chin, he narrowed his eyes hard at the scene in front of him. Like if he pouted enough, the world would bring him his answers on a silver platter. No. Things were never that easy. Things never just came to him, wrapped up neat with a bow. Oikawa had to bleed for the things he wanted. Blood, sweat and plenty of tears were required for him to receive just a little of anything. That fact used to drive him insane. Watching others fully grasp what he had worked so hard to just graze with his fingers. He’d grown since then. Rarely got into the spiral that used to take him on anymore. Which was for the better, the only person able to kick him off course of that trainwreck once it started, didn’t speak to him much anymore. 

Hajime. His brain practically shouted the name at him. It was a name he went out of his way to avoid these days. Hajime. Tooru dug his feet into the cooling sand, pushing his face deeper into the crack of his knees up against his face and deepened the glare he shot at the ocean. The waves looked so cohesive, the setter could almost convince himself that if he tried to take some water in his cupped hands, the whole ocean would pull up with it. Oikawa had always appreciated fluidity. It was something he sorely lacked. Sure, he was fast, strong, adaptable if he wasn’t too stubborn to be but moving like liquid was never something he was able to achieve. Moving with purpose and certainty always had to be replicated. Faked. And it never quite fit him well. 

Hajime moved like water. His limbs always were sure of where they needed to be. With the amount of strength he had, both mental and physical, his body should never have been able to be as graceful as it was. Some of Tooru’s first memories are of Iwa carefully placing colorful bandages on his own scraped knees. That continued to be a trend as they grew older. Oikawa was clumsy, ended up hurting himself and before he could even feel bad for himself and lick his wounds, Iwa was always there to patch him up carefully. And Tooru would get an earful. Iwaizumi’s gruff voice riddled with profanity, trying to mask the underlying tone of complete and total worry. 

When Hajime told him that he wanted to pursue physical therapy, it came to no surprise. As abrasive and aggressive as he was, the ace had a knack for healing. He had a way of taking care of you emotionally even when he was just fixing you up physically. Afterwards. After the yelling and the concern and the rough hands bandaging him softer than he should be allowed, Hajime always looked at him in a way that Tooru could never understand. 

At first, Oikawa thought it was starting to rain when he felt a drop of moisture hit his knee. It took a look up into a clear evening sky and a careful touch to his cheeks before he realized tears were making their way down his face. It wasn’t a dam about to crack and flood the unexpecting city below. It was a careful, steady stream. Fluid. It didn’t break his way out of him like emotion usually did, it slowly was bubbling over. Brown eyes swept over the water again, letting tears flow freely down his face, before it finally made sense. 

It wasn’t the ocean. It wasn’t that at all. Sure, it was pretty. Sure, it was calming. But it wasn’t what kept him coming back here. He saw Hajime in the way the waves crashed down against the shore. Forceful and assertive. He saw Hajime in the way the water creeped up the sand, only to draw back when the sea demanded it. Calculating and delicate. He saw Hajime in the way the ocean made him feel. The undeniable feeling of ‘home.’ The longing he felt when he came here. The familiarity. The weight on his chest. It didn’t belong to this place. It belonged to Hajime. 

As if it hurt too much to look at, Tooru tipped his head back to look up at the sky. A part of him wanted to scream. It has for a while. Wanted to scream at God, the universe, some all knowing, alien creator, whoever would listen. His voice wanted to crack around the questions he wanted answered. Why? Why even give them each other at all? Why make them choose between each other and their ultimate happiness? Why make Hajime too good to ask Tooru to stay? Why make Tooru not selfish enough to beg Hajime to follow him? Why make them so perfect for each other but only perfect for spots so incredibly far away? 

Oikawa wasn’t crying anymore. He couldn’t describe this as anything other than sobbing. Burying his head into his knees, he pressed a warm palm over his chest, like he could claw the pain out with his bare hands. If anyone saw him. Came to check on him. He wouldn’t be able to compose himself. Not anymore. The thought scared him. Not many people had seen him cry. It wasn’t something he enjoyed. And this was much heavier than a few tears and two or three sniffles. It was the most pain he’s ever been in and he’s been here since the moment he realized they couldn’t both achieve what they needed with the other by their side.  
It was nothing in particular. No big moment. No blow out fight. For once, nothing dramatic. It was Hajime sitting on Tooru’s bed, textbook open and eyebrows knit together in confusion, absentmindedly pressing the eraser of his pencil against his lips that made Oikawa realize it. Something clicked. For the first time, it became clear to him that he was headed to a place the other was unable to follow. And Hajime was building a life that didn’t have Tooru as the center framework. It struck him like he assumed lightning would have. In his own selfishness, he begged Hajime to spend the night. If the other could hear the muffled cries Tooru let out as he plastered himself to the boy’s chest as he slept, he never said a word. 

That was the last night Tooru was held by him. Surrounded by him. Was looked at by him in an expression that wasn’t trying to mask obvious pain. The last time he heard his voice whisper careful ‘I love you’s’ into his skin so quietly, he thought Tooru couldn’t hear him. It was the last time he had to pretend he couldn’t hear him. It was the last night he saw him. It’s burned into his memory hotter than any other one. If he thinks hard enough, he can still remember the heat of Hajime’s body as he hugged him for the last time.

The buzz of his phone was the only thing that ripped him out of the rerun playing in his mind. God. Tooru lifted his head, opening his eyes and using the back of his hand to wipe away some of the wetness on his face. He really couldn’t tell if it was snot or tears at this point. When his eyes were clear enough to see, Tooru dug his phone out of his pocket. With a teary hiccup, he squinted at the screen. 

[New Text Message: Hajime (Iwa-chan)] 

Oh. The universe was cruel. Sick. Vile. It played with him like a toy. Oikawa stared at the screen blankly. Reading the notification again and then once more for good measure. Wiping the rest of the snot and tears off his face, he unlocked his phone. 

[Message: I miss you.]

The words struck him like he was burned. A sharp pain that slowly faded into a dull but constant burning. A laugh tore through him before he could register it. Nothing was funny. Nothing at all. The pain was nearly overwhelming all over again. Could he do this again? Was he strong enough yet? When will this stop hurting like the first time all over again? Tooru’s thumb hovered over the keyboard. He had a million things he wanted to say. A thousand words to give to him. Hundreds of things to tell him. 

[Message Deleted] 

Oikawa slowly closed his eyes, feeling the fresh sting of tears threaten to spill over. He could do it again. He was strong enough. But, no. It will always hurt like the first time. Every time. He willed himself to not think about Iwaizumi’s face as he more than likely reread the months of unanswered messages he’s sent. Oikawa had to remind himself that the pain that brings would be nothing compared to the pain he would bring Iwaizumi if he dragged him back into his life again. If he begged the other to come home to him and leave everything he’s worked for. His dreams. His passions. The life he’s built without Oikawa in mind. It would all come crashing down the second he would try to force himself to fit in a place he didn’t belong. 

His sister once told him that he was lucky to have found love like that even if he had lost it. That some people never get to experience something like that. The place she was coming from wasn’t foreign to him but sometimes, late at night, listening to the cars drive smoothly down the street below his apartment window, Tooru wished he never met Hajime. 

Letting tears spill down his face again, he opened his eyes, looking solemnly back at the darkening water. 

“I miss you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not really sure if i want to write more chapters of him navigating his life but i think i might so i'll leave it open ended


End file.
